


From hospital beds to camp beds

by xmy_stone_cold_heartx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 23:38:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15497376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xmy_stone_cold_heartx/pseuds/xmy_stone_cold_heartx
Summary: There's an explosion in a small farming town. Bella's world turns upside down when the Winchesters explore with some hidden intentions of course.





	1. Chapter 1

Bella’s wrist ached from writing for an hour straight. An hour? It felt longer, this must be the end of class surely. She paused for water just for a second and to look out the window in search of further inspiration. She wished she hadn’t lent Penny, her bestfriend, her better watch, she longed for the digital time. Lunch was a distant dream. 

Period four, English Lit in classroom ER7. The sun was just above the hill and sleep was still in Bella’s eyes. The sun seemed to burn a little brighter today. Bella had never seen any of her class mates wear t-shirts Westwood Farmstead.   
Today seemed hotter than usual though the clouds still hung in the air, it was too humid. The unusual heat, the looming exams, Bells was certain it was a bad omen.   
Bella allows her mind to drift. She can’t wait for the summer. She thinks of last summer, six weeks spent adding to her on-going home library, her bedroom curtains firmly shut- cut off from the rest of Westwood Farmstead. But this year is different, she’s already made five arrangements with various classmates, though she knows Ma will never let her fulfil but it excites her anyway. Penny; her unconditional partner in crime wouldn’t skip a road trip to Nowhere’s Ville with a hamper. And Michael of course, (she looks up two rows in front of her to the black-haired boy) she has him too now. Being 16, Ma finally had to give her some space. Whether she liked it or not…   
“Look at that!” somebody pipped up pointing out at the window.  
“What?” another says, slightly irritated. The foreshadowing of the exams was beginning to eat away at even the nicest people’s positivity these days. 

“The sun. Look at the size of it”.   
Numerous scribbles of classmates writing comes to a pause.  
She was right, the sun seemed so close to the ground beneath the array of clouds. Bella swore she could see flames. She squinted, even the substitute Lit teacher paused. “What is that?” she mumbled under her breath, readjusting her glasses lowering the book in her hand. Bella discards the summertime thoughts for now.

The sun’s light seemed to be coming closer and closer and for one horrifying moment, Bella thought maybe it wasn’t the sun. ‘It is, a bomb? An atomic bomb, here, in Westwood Farmstead.   
Michael is still writing despite the murmurs and finger- pointing. Bella worries he tries too hard. She’s yet to see him cry, but she has nearly caught him off guard once or twice. She can already tell something is wrong from his writing pace, and the way he has deliberately hunched over his work barricading the outside world. 

The light expanded until the entire class was groaning, squinting and covering their faces. Somebody beside her gropes the blinds but it’s just too bright to see anything. The light blew out. The flames gone. Bella wondered if she was seeing things after all, until a sea of illumination burst into her eyes, she snapped them shut and her arms shaded her face as when she cowered. How was Michael unware?   
Some blinds were being half-heartedly tugged at; but nobody could see squat it was too intense. Forcefully, she tried to focus herself going over what she had already written, tracking her previous scrawled notes from past lessons. She really needed these grades if she wanted to make it anywhere outside of Westwood Farmstead, Dallas, Texas.   
She looked at her watch and by George, it had busted again. The damn thing kept burning away at the batteries. The hands had all frozen it seemed. Again, she wishes she’d given Penny the unreliable one.   
She heard the noise. The explosion. Incredible. The boom went right through her.   
It was such a feeling. Bella felt herself fly whilst her entire body was lifted straight out of her seat forcefully, and smacked into the wall she could hear this noise repeated as several ER7 students followed, some weren’t moving at all. Bella felt her head explode with pain, the blood drips. Knowing she must run, Bella snapped up everything in the class, several tables and chairs were covering the exits and the windows too broken to possible climb out safely, she was ridged filled with adrenaline and fear. Her heart sank. Where was Michael?


	2. The Surprise

"An explosion, and she is the only one who comes out unharmed- that's creepy dude" A stone-cold killer of a voice.  
“Shut up, Dean”   
There is a bright white again and Bella feels a chill run through her, she wonders if she still is still in class watching the sun inflate. But that is impossible she knows. The white light must have been an atomic bomb exploding from the corner of the country somewhere distant and far from Westwood Farmstead.   
Then why am I still here? Should this be the afterlife? Is my class here too?   
Her neck is too stiff to peer around in search of them. The light is dying down now- her eyes aren’t so strained. The walls are a firm baby blue, the blinds are lavender, the beds (curse them) are iron framed, concealed by turquoise curtains. Seldom people around.  
I am not dead. I’m in hospital.  
Instead of paradise, she is suspended to uncomfortable bed with its rough sheets and rock-hard pillows.   
Heart in her mouth, Bella checks bit by bit if all of her is there. This must be miracle to survive an atomic bomb, unharmed. She wriggles her fingers easily enough but can’t quite manage the toes. Below the waist is stiff too- she can’ shift herself. What if she’s paralysed, what if she will never walk again, how will she get to school now? Her poor Ma, what if-  
“You’re fine. Just achy”  
A soft voice. It breaks the silence of her world. How did she not see them, these men, two square shouldered, straight backed men sitting next to her, suspenseful.   
Neck unyielding, she can’t investigate them properly.   
“Bella, right? Bella Gumm?” the taller one, the softer one, persists. He seems erratic, but nice, no less.

The other, shorter, smirky one snorts. “Bella Gumm” He laughs to himself under his breath. “Sounds an Italian ice- cream” . The tall, softer one, sharply nudges him in the ribs.   
Bella Gumm is no stranger to teasing about her name- these two would not be the first.   
One nod, side eyeing the smirky one. Who are these people and why god’s name are they sitting here talking to her like an old friend or distant cousin. 

“I’m Sam Wilder, this is my partner, Dean Walker, we’re here to ask you some questions- if that’s ok”. They- ‘Sam and Dean’- nod slowly, encouragingly holding up FBI badges too far for Bella to read. Agent Walker takes out a beaten, leather-bound note pad and chewed pen, forearms resting on his thighs, ready to write.   
“It’s about the explosion”.   
“oh”.  
Dean is dressed up in a cheap looking suit, they both are, polished shoes and glossy ties. His hair is combed, fully cedar brown, Sam’s is longer: around jaw length flicking out at the ends, it dances between deep blonde and hickory brown.   
She sits up more and twists her body further in their direction. The brightness has cleared.  
“Do you need help?” Sam asks coming suddenly to her side to shift the bed slightly and prop her pillows. Reddening, Bella splutters to clear her throat. His tone gives her a pang in the stomach, he reminds her of Michael. Michael.  
“Is…Is there water anywhere?”. She wants these men gone. She’s just want her friends. She wants to go home to her own bed, now her head aches again. A little voice tells her she should demand to see their badges, ‘but how will I tell if they’re fake?’ Every cell in her body is telling her to run.   
“I’ll grab some- hold on” holding up one finger, he bounds off too quickly to keep him insight. What the hell?  
Dean coughs once he is out of earshot. “Alrighty then, firstly, what did you see? Did you smell anything, sulphur? It’s sort of like rotten eggs, was you cold at all? Did anybody mention chills? Anything unusual around”. He swirls his pen in the air to mimic the atmosphere. “Before the explosion”.   
Unsure of what to answer first, Bella reimages herself back in English Room (ER) 7, looking out the window, wrist throbbing; Michael, ignoring her; the memory will be forever burned in her mind like a scald scar.   
“I was in my English Lit Class and, I uh, stopped writing to look out of the window when I saw this bright white light coming closer I-.” her face burned as I admitted “I thought it was the sun”   
“But?” he raises an eyebrow. He thinks I’m lying. Or crazy.   
Sam- Agent Wilder- comes back with two plastic cups of chilled water, the mist coming off them. He hands one to her, letting the other sit on the bedside table. He joins Agent Walker, writing in his own book suddenly looking focuses and concentrated. She switches back to Dean:  
“But it was too big, and it was cloudy that day. And no, it wasn’t cold, it was really, really humid actually, we never get that here- it always rains you see-, so hot. Other than that, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary” She shrugs.   
A new idea enters her thoughts. Hesitant and unsure she even wants to ask, afraid of the answer.  
“So, where’s my friends? Has my Ma been to see me? When can I leave?” she eyes around the ward, maybe it’s a surprise and this is a joke and any minute now she’ll jump out and she’ll say “- .  
They glance at each other, both agents seems to look anxious and her stomach plunges, she has seen enough films and read enough books to know what is coming next, the speech.   
“Actually, Bella, nobody has seen Ms. Gumm since the explosion, she’s disappeared. You’re in pretty rough shape, you could be here a while…”.   
Her heart sinks. It can’t be her. It just can’t be. Tears prick in her eyes, her head titles down.   
“Wendy. Wendaline Gumm, are you sure?” she looks up, switch back and forth from them, neither them look confident. A sea of anger floods over her. ‘How dare I sit here’, whilst Ma could still be out there, lost, confused, waiting for Bella to come home from school. Bella’s chest burns but ignores it   
School.   
“What- what day is it?” How long have I been here?  
“Tuesday”  
Tuesday! It was Friday- I’m sure it was!  
A powerful surge of energy shoots through her, she can jostle her legs, arms, all fully functioning suddenly. Confidently, Bella sheds the skin of various sheets and blankets and swings her legs off the bed and jump down. But it’s higher than she thought, and tumbles.  
“Woah there!”  
“Wait!”   
They flutter to bring her up again.  
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Bella flings her arms to shake them off as they coax her back to bed. “No, no! you don’t understand, I need to go! I need to! Has Michael been? Has he seen me like this?”  
They swap confused looks. Michael? There wasn’t any Michaels in the report. And it was very specific with names and who lived and who died. Not one Michael.  
She breaks away, but Sam pulls her back “Hold up Bella, where are you going, you’re not healed yet, you’re temperate is elevated. I think you have cracked ribs”. She glares at her hospital gown gripped between his thumb and forefinger, buzzing to get away. But she needs a motive. 

“Sam” Dean says gently, prizing his fingers off and looking around “people are looking, man”.   
They both smile to a nearby patient and nurse. He switches to Bella.   
“Where’y going?” His bares his white teeth at her through a sickening smile.   
She goes to answer but her sharp intake of breath for air makes her double over in pain “Ow. Nowhere, I guess” as she’s taken back to bed, in defeat. If she wants to leave, she’ll need help.


	3. The Great Escape

For three days Bella has sat at the chalky celling without her mobile phone.  
The agents have been to check up on her between visiting hours and various nurses checking. But still no sign of Ma.   
The third day Agent Walker comes alone and Bella feels uncomfortable and slightly irritated she grown attached to Wilder’s character resemblance to Michael. 

“Hey Neapolitan” her new nickname. She rolls her eyes and looks out the window to see the exact same dull trees and view, praying he’ll just give and leave, unless he has Sam somewhere behind him. She smiled to herself. Yes, she did like the younger agent, they actually shared a lot of common interests, he often brought her books at her request. She was already through Monday’s George Orwell novel. She wonders what Penny would make of Watson. Bella huffed, she knew Penny would make of Dean.

“I, uh, actually brought you a gift” he holds his hands outstretched with a small, phone sized boxed in them. Her heart increases. No way, seriously? A cop she didn’t know from Adam? This was unreal she wanted to throw her arms around his shoulders. “Go ahead” he wore a dry, expectant smile on him.   
Slowly but with adrenaline pumping in her she unravels the lopsided ribbon with a label “From Agents Sam and Dean, Get Well Soon!”. What a sweet gesture, she thought, maybe I was very helpful in the case.   
She opens the wings of the box, expecting the glossy package of the latest iPhone. But there’s something else. Something black.  
“Bella” Agent Dean Walker is watching her hopefully “We understand if you don’t like them, and you don’t have to, but this is- “he swallows back a lump in his throat and sting in his eyes “really, really important to us” he pleads. Bella doesn’t understand his desperation. He pictured it just like this.  
Bella’s newfound curiosity takes over as she slips her hand inside the box and reveals…cassette tapes?  
“Uh, thanks, Dean”   
“We- well, I- figured you were getting bored looking at the four walls ‘round here and thought you’d maybe like some music, and look-!” he launches himself unexpectantly “we picked out all the best ones, you know: AC/DC, Black Sabbath- hahey!” he picks up the third one and grins. “we got Asia!”.  
Bella isn’t sure how to act, she is of course thrilled that the pair of cops, no less, even thought about her enough to go this trouble, but cassettes? Music was something unique and comforting, to be shared between long relationships not somebody involved in a police case. But she feels Dean’s eyes on her.   
“wow. Oh, uh thank you, this is really- you must have gone to a lot of trouble?”  
Dean shrugs and shakes his head “Nah, not really, we got a load in the Imp- ah, I mean police car, yeah” he chuckles nervously looking around he shoves his hands into his pockets. “So how are you holding up? Any better?”  
“Well, yes but” Bella sees her opportunity. She curls her hand motioning for him to come closer   
“Its just, yesterday I got an unexpected surprise and well, bottom line: need to go the toilet” she looks down at herself and pretends to be embarrassed. “Now. It’s an emergency. I need privacy”. Luckily, a wave of uncanny discomfort washes over him as he squirms.   
“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry” he apologises “right. You better go then, you know the way?”. His eyes slightly narrow.   
Bella’s head suddenly head throbs, but she rolls her eyes “my mum came here once, she broke her arm so…”.  
Trailing off and turning to the edge of the bed, Bella balls her fist – this could backfire horribly- ready to scurry. Awkwardly, Dean helps her down, both turning shades of fire when she feels his skin brush her knee.   
“Don’t be too long” He warns adjusting his tie. But he has no idea.


	4. Two, three four, run for the door!

The truth is Bella has never been to this place before, she doesn’t even know where she is, but as soon as she sees the EXIT sign towards a set of stairs, suddenly Bella Gumm is skipping steps to scamper as far as she can before Dean gets suspicious. The signs lead all the way to a corridor, and like a rainbow, at the end of the trail is a pot of gold, the ENTRENCE/ EXIT.   
Bella waits, until it is clear enough to avoid seeking attention, lost in the action of patients upon patients darting across wards, busy nurses with clipboards and gowns and drip bags. When the moment rises, she goes, like a heavy rain, slow at first, then all at once.  
Bella limits herself to look back once sharply, then with all her power dash out the revolving doors before anyone has time to raise awareness of her absence. Before those creeps find her. 

“Fantastic” She whispers to herself, delightfully. This place is ‘Westwood Farmstead Sacred Hospital’ and it has a parking lot bustling with taxis and potential families to hitchhike from. There is a lone taxi out of view just half a yard from her, easy running distance.   
Nervously, flagging the driver down, Bella sees a scruffy skin man, glasses and bed hair, crumpled plaid shirt and cheap looking shoes, finishing up on a cigarette. He doesn’t look threatening, but suddenly remembers she has no money or anything valuable.  
I’ll just have to jump out quickly before he can catch me.  
Pulse is in her ears as well as her throat and feet, Bella’s footsteps break from a casual walk to a steady strive to a sprint as fast as her crippling ribs will allow her. She counts the steps ignoring the burning in her sides and numbing of her calves.   
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven- the driver flicks the butt into a bush and climbs into the driver seat. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. She shouts out “Apple Springs House, Westwood Farmstead please, Please! Hurry!”. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.   
The passenger door is wide open in greeting. She wonders if Ma will be at home, she left her key in her school bag. What will happen tomorrow, will she go back to school- if it’s still there at all- or be given time to grieve? She’s lost everything now.   
The seats are an unusual crimson red leather, a little beaten but she’s dying to rest before her insides collapse.  
“Thanks” she huffs into place, clicking in her seatbelt, trying to control her panting “You know the place?” 

The driver is already in his seat. Fast.  
He turns towards her “No, not really” Agent Sam Wilder half smiles. 

“Eeeeh!” Bella is hauled back, hand firmly planted on shoulder.  
“Watcha, kiddo” A gruff Texas accent grips her tight. Dean Walker does not look impressed. 

“Fuck, get off!” she shrieks her arms beginning to flail madly, how had they done this?

Sam apologies to the driver flashing his badge with some fairy tale about a jittery runaway patient fearing an op, straightens his suit and soon they are both fiercely holding an arm each, Bella glances pleadingly at them both, she can see the driver raise an eyebrow. “hel-“ she screeches at him but a hand is already over her mouth.   
Snarling like a mongrel, Bella is unwilling to give up so easily. Her teeth snap out to bite it and break away briefly to her finger tips skimming the passenger door of the taxi. She has a palm clamped around it. Almost inside until nevertheless a forceful tug and back into their possession by her hair and shoulders. Feet raised from the ground as she kicks. The taxi has already been recruited by an elderly couple.  
Fast, too fast to process, they are already the other side of the parking lot, way, way out for anyone to see them or for Bella to view another family or taxi.  
Dean chuckles as he struggles to control her lashing out. “you think you are the first to pull the toilet gag?”. She kicks his shin. “I’m seventeen, not five”. The pair finally come to a halt at a beaten old car. It is a black, 67 Chevy Impala that looks like a hose-down wouldn’t go amiss. 

Dean breaks his grip momentarily and strides up to the Impala, opens the passenger seat and points, indicating to enter. “Get in, sweetheart” he grins, and she wants to punch him. Sam also releases his hold to get in the front passenger seat, he looks sheepish. Good. They are testing her, knowing that she knows she couldn’t outrun either of them, looking as if they were military drop-outs. Dean was at least 6” easily, though he still looked smaller compared to his brother.   
Oh god, I’m being kidnapped.   
“Let me go” she begs. “Please, my Ma, she’s going to be so worried, she can’t function by herself without me. Please. People will look for me when they realise I survived. You’ll be caught!” she pleas, but neither of them looks worried now, in fact, Bella catches Sam’s knowing smirk. They are amused by her pathetic attempt.   
“A) Your Mom is a grown woman. B) Nobody is looking for you. C) Sweetheart, we are never caught.”

He moves closer to her, making her back up and bump into the Impala. Cornered, Dean forces her to meet his intense glare as he blocks her pleading view to Sam, praying he’ll have an epiphany and release her. She cringes at his hot breath on her cheek and his nearness. “You are going to get in this car- like it or not- and come with so we can save your ass, we came all this damn way for you, so buck up your ideas, buddy” Dean pauses. “Now”  
And there is, the sharp pain in her neck. “ow!” Bella clasps it but it’s too late, she already sinking under her sudden increased weight. By the time Bella realises the situation, both men have a hold under her arms and ankles. They load her in without caution, nobody is looking for her, after all.


	5. the back story

The Explosion Day: The door was on the latch, barely creaking open. Wendaline Gumm shouldn’t be so trusting and remember to take her little pills like a good girl. The Vampire Queen couldn’t help herself, but she knew she was quite alone for a few hours. Girly would be at school by now.  
As soon as she saw the receding wallpaper, the smell of boiled cooking apples wafting from the kitchen, the old rug at the end of the staircase her heart finally began to beat again after all this time. She could sing, she just knew she had to go to her room.  
It was obvious from the scent her room gave off that it was hers. Just as she imagined, neat and well-kept, a bookshelf full of hardbacks and a sash window over-looking Westwood Farmstead. This is exactly the type of room she expected her to have. The Vampire Queen knows she shouldn’t, but it doesn’t stop her from reaching out to touch a decorative hardback placed in the heart of the shelving. She knows this book all too well.  
Grimm’s Fairy-tales.  
‘I gave this to you’ She thinks as she skips the first few pages to find what she came for, her proof. But, it’s gone, her special, special message to her pride and joy, it’s gone.  
“I love you and I’m very sorry, when you are more powerful I will come for you, until then, Mommy loves you very much”  
Xx  
Ripped out, cutting off her only child from her, oblivious.  
Like a thunderstorm, The Vampire Queen feels a surge of anger, normally she would control it given the circumstances. She lets out an almighty scream and feels the hot air boiling around her, the wallpaper ripple and dance. She wants to kill Wendy, why does the boss feel she's so special anyway?  
Stop. She tells herself, she does not. Everything begins to bubble in the heat, the corners of the room, blacken. The fire alarm goes off and The Vampire Queen’s journey is over.  
She takes one thing. Behind her she leaves a trail of mass destruction as she drives away with Apple Springs House safely burning in her rearview mirror.  
Surprise, Wendy, she thinks.


	6. Dust In The Wind

Bella creaks awake around five minutes past four o’clock. On the record, she has been dead 96 and a bit hours. Yet Sam and Dean hear her snuffles in the back of the Impala. They haven’t travelled far. The boys know that she’ll be needing a change of clothes, blanket, pillow, and ugh, Dean shuddered, toiletries.  
“This is a bad idea, Dean. I know it is”  
Dean shrugs at his brother, one hand firmly on the wheel and eye on the twilight road.   
“What else was we to do, Sammy? Leave her there to work up a grief so big she blows up what’s left of Westwood?”. He turns back to the steering wheel before routinely checking the rear-view mirror to see if Bella is still breathing. “I don’t think so”.   
The lights of the Impala reflecting on the open road eventually stirs Bella from her slumber. She must blink a few times. Then she remembers. Like a flash, she tugs on the door handle. Dean chuckles.  
“Locked. And we’re in transit anyway. You may as well get some sleep. You’ll want to be wide awake tomorrow. Trust me”.   
She accepts she can do little else but sleep. But one question tugs on her thoughts. Groggily, she asks “are you ever going to take me home?”. When neither of them answer, she returns to the sinking feeling again.   
The morning sun sets its beams through the windows, its hot in the Impala, Bella has been sweating longer than she has been awake. She slits an eye open. My god, I’m home.  
The car is empty. There are no bags, Sam or Dean. And the door is unlocked.  
She can’t believe it. She’s here in Apple Springs House.   
Except, it’s not a house anymore. She finds Sam and Dean overlooking the rubble and pile of ash built u around the skeleton of her farmhouse. Bella has to rub her eyes once, twice before coming to terms with it.   
“No!” They both turn but neither bothers to chase after her as she climbs into the derelict building though it could topple over any second.   
She runs in calling her name as she picks her way through upturned furniture and glass, “Ma! Ma!” bur nobody answers. She catches her foot on something in the living room. A photograph, silver plated. It’s of her and Ma on her eight birthday, surrounded by friends- there’s Penny!- and their moms, before Ma went crazy. She holds it, tears splashing onto the glass.   
Careful. She must be careful. There are hardly any stairs left but she wills herself into her bedroom. There’s nothing left. Her bed is crisp, bookshelf and books disintegrated.   
“Bella! Bella!”   
Before she has time to do anything Dean’s already in her room. She can hear Sam jostling around downstairs  
“I’m going nowhere with either of you, I’m calling the police!” She shoves him. “I’m staying here, get the hell out of my house!”  
“Here” he repeats “the hell you’re staying here, look at it- it could crumble any second now! So either get your stuff-“  
“Or what? You’ll drug me again?”  
He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a gun “Don’t make this hard”.  
...  
Outside with fresh tears, Bella clutched the cardboard box. Her only possessions popping out in places. For the first time, she’s not ready to leave Westwood Farmstead. She ditches the box at the Impala's wheel to Dean's sigh of exasperation. She runs to the only place she knows. Somewhere sacred.  
She wastes no time getting to the top of the hill, from here she can see her ruthless captors, the Impala and her home. Under the tree she remembers having tea parties and… something else she can’t quite make out. Something blurred. Reluctantly, Bella tests her weight in a tire Ma tied to the tree when she was a kid. And cries.  
Bella knows it is time to go when she feels a warm hand on her shoulder. She’s sat on the tire facing away from them all, watching the sunset. She knows it's Sam. He sits with her for awhile as they watch the array of oranges and pinks in the sky.   
“Pretty” he says.   
“Let me go” she turns, whispering. “Just please, let me go”  
He looks sad for a minute, she thinks he is crazy, he can’t fix this situation. “I can’t” and gently but forcefully pulls her up off of the tire and slowly walk down the hill to the Impala  
The box is safely tucked in the trunk. Bella am escorted thoroughly into the back of the Impala. There is a single pillow burnt at the corners from the inferno and a thick blanket throw, a clean sheet beneath it. There was obviously a lot of effort because, settled in the foot well on a clean sheet, was a carton of orange juice with a straw poking out the top, a bottle of chilled water, and some pain killers.  
Dean has done this. "Thank You" she says to the back of his head. He grunts.   
Bella watches her house disappear from sight until it is a dot in the distance. She watches the houses around town flash by, realizing nobody knew she was here today, nobody knew they had the chance to see her alive despite her false death, if they cared.   
They stop at traffic lights when Sam turns and hands something to her. “Here”. Bella takes the square photo frame from him, another one of her and Ma.  
It’s a while before Bella wants to sleep. She hears Sam and Dean take turns to yawn and thinks about sleeping in the car. Maybe she could pinch the keys when they’re asleep and make a run for it to the nearest police department.  
They drive and drive she feels her eyes grow heavier until she sees the Kansas sign flash past her holds her breath remembering the Impala’s number plate: KANSAS KAZ 2Y5.  
“Are we going to your house?” her heart thuds, not a good sign, not at all.  
“No.” Dean looks tiredly at her in the rearview mirror. Why doesn’t she just shut up?  
“Then where are we going?”  
“Just go to sleep”.  
Bella felt the car circle far too many times for her weak stomach to handle then halt to a stop before the car dipped as Dean got out, shutting the door behind him.

Dean stepped out of the Impala, boots scuffing against the dusty parking lot. Taking a glance back at the sleeping form of his brother and Bella, he walked to the motel office to get them a room.  
Sighing, he opened the door and stepped into the stale air of the office only to find it empty. He rang the bell at the desk and waited for a response.  
"Hello? Anybody around?"  
Exhausted from driving all day, Dean was getting annoyed. After spending three days finding ungrateful teen, chasing all over town for her, hanging about in hospital wards (something he hated, and vowed never to do after his Dad’s death), he wanted to sleep for a week. The only reason he didn’t sleep in the car is because he was certain Bella wasn’t as naïve as she seemed. She’d try again, he was certain.   
Just as he was about to go back to the car and find another motel, a woman walked out from the room behind the counter.  
"Sorry to keep you waiting, can I get you a room?" She was slightly flushed and her breathing unsteady.  
Dean smirked knowingly. "Yeah. A room with two single beds, please," he said, pulling a false credit card from his wallet and setting it on the counter top. Mr. Weathers was paying today.  
“That’s a lot of bed for one person,” the woman said, winking at Dean.  
Lightly chuckling to himself, Dean shook his head. “I’m not alone.”  
“How long would you like the room for . . . Mr. Weathers?” she asked, reading the name off the credit card Dean had supplied.  
“Just the one night, please,” he said, looking back out at the car, making sure Sam and Bella was still sleeping.  
The woman followed Dean’s gaze and smiled slightly upon seeing Sam and Bella in the car. “You’re in room 3. If you or your friends need anything during your stay, just let me or my partner know.”  
“We will. Thanks.”  
Dean stepped out of the office feeling slightly better and walked back to the car. They were still sleeping as he moved in front of room 3.  
“Come on, dudes, time for bed,” he said, shaking his brother awake and grabbing Bella's box out of the trunk.  
“Where are we?” Bella enquired, stepping out of the vehicle, Sam groggily attached to her, and following Dean to their room, too dark to run anywhere now.  
“Kansas, Gruene. Just stopping for some rest and to find the next hun- ,uh, GET UP"  
As soon as they were in the room, Dean fell face first onto the mattress to leave Sam to lock up and salt the door and window. Already half asleep, Dean grunted as Sam offered Bella the bed, he still had a heart for god’s sake. She reused, she’d heard about Stockholm Syndrome and took her place on the floor. Wondering how the hell she was going to escape this one as she watched Sam’s silhouette stiffly undress and fall into a slumber.


	7. Sleep

The next morning, Dean’s already in front of her, holding her hand, looking at his watch. She whips it back “What the hell are you doing!” she checks herself.   
Whilst holding his glance at her hand, he shakes her head “You still don’t know, do you?”   
“Know what?”   
Bella locks herself in the bathroom whilst the boys roll their eyes. Stupidly, she thinks how she’s calmer about the situation. She doesn’t remember them picking up food yesterday, they’ll have no choice but to go to a diner, somewhere public, she’ll act out, two men and a teen, what will people think?  
She’s bursting with pride at her plan but her face falls when she’s handed a bowl of Fruit Loops by Sam, behind him Dean is frying bacon. Dammit.   
They sit around for a while, she breaks eye contact from both of them, staring the wall. All the windows are firmly shut, blinds pulled down. There’s no phone accessible. Probably intentional. Who were these guys? Sex traffickers, crazies, are they holding her for a ransom?  
She slumps against the wall.

“Bella. Bella look at me” Dean forces his voice into her trail of thought. He crouches in front of her. “Sam and I have business later, OK? You can’t come so we are going to have to trust you, OK? Make any moves outside or catch someone’s attention we’ll know, and we’ll shoot you. Understand?”   
Bella’s paralysed, how will you know? But she nods. Something about his bluntness scares her stiff.   
He gets up, satisfied. From behind the couch where she’s sitting trying not freak out. From the kitchen Sam mumbles to him. “Was that last part necessary”. The bathroom is filled with solo guitar and singing.   
“Here” Sam tosses something at her, landing on her head. “Oh. Sorry. Sorry” he bends to pick them off her, she still doesn’t move.   
He sighs and joins her on the floor “You, know, Bella, I don’t like this either”  
“Then why are you doing it” she clasps her shoulders, her fingers begin to dig hard into her skin, to remind her of pain, her humanity. Her chest is burning again. “Why”.

“You don’t realise it now, but we’re saving a lot of people. Ok? Trust me.”  
Bella gulps back the lump in her throat as tears prick in her eyes “Trust you? Are you even FBI?”  
He shakes his head and thrusts the bundle at her. Clothing. Some sweatpants and a t-shirt.   
“They’re clean by the way”.  
“Is it- Is it my Ma? Does she owe you something? My Pa? Because I swear we haven’t seen him in years, you can’t threaten him with me, I haven’t seen him in years”. But he’s already shaking his head.

Dean exits the shower with steam bleeding out behind him. Before either one of them can say anything Bella’s already in the bathroom, door locked, washing away something ugly on her skin, tugging into her new clothes half-heartedly. At least they’re clean. 

For a kidnapped, sleep deprived, cracked ribbed girl, in someone else’s clothes, she doesn’t look too bad. Sure, the pants are a bit long, but it’s not like she was going anywhere. After brushing her teeth, she shamefacedly left the bathroom, her clothes in hand, which Sam takes from her, stuffing into a bag.   
Which is fine, it’s not like they were designer or a sentimental gift. Until she remembers the ring her Ma gave her in the breast pocket. The ring with the pop-up blade.  
Bella almost kicks herself.  
Dean, who wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking out of the kitchenette, simultaneously stepped on the dragging material of the back her pants and bumped his crotch into her ass at the same time, successfully knocking her on her chest and ripping the seam on the sweat pants just below the waistline, exposing her underwear.  
The light breeze on her backside gave it away. She stood up and turned to meet the faces of the boys. Sam was blatantly looking the other way and Dean’s face was blushing a slight red. He looked almost shell shocked and could barely just make out the words, “uh…. I'm.... Sorry Bella”.   
Her face was unamused as she glared at him before contorting her body to try to see the extent of the rip. “Dammit Dean!” seemed to escape her lips. Satisfied that only one cheek was showing, she turned to angrily speed walk back to the bathroom holding the ripped fabric together so as not to give a free show. Unbeknownst to her, Dean’s eyes remained on her ass, and Sam noticed, gently hitting his brother on the chest “not cool”. Dean’s blush deepened having been caught staring.   
They left abruptly after that. Sam gave her the run-down. “I’m leaving you my gun, OK? So don’t shoot yourself or anything, that would be unwise. There’s food. We’re not expecting anyone, don’t answer the door, we have our keys. If we’re not back in three hours-”. Dean nudged him  
As soon as she heard the roars of the tin can rumble away, she had her hands yanking on the door. Locked. The windows too, no air vents. Solid walls.  
“God damn, God damn, God damn!” she yelled.


	8. I'm Coming

Where are you, my child. I know you are breathing, you are strong. I’m sorry it had to be this way. I will find you.


	9. Chapter 9

By the second hour Bella found herself begging for Sam and Dean to return. And almost hugged them when they did. Almost.   
They were covered in mud, blood and stench. At least, she thought it was blood, until she realised it was purple in the lamp light she kept on the floor beside her, refusing to watch TV or sit anywhere else.  
“Did you eat?” Dean growls. She shook her head, certain she would throw it up. “Shame you should’ve”  
The ride searching for a motel was incredibly silent. Although Bella caught Dean’s glance in the rear-view mirror maybe one too many times. She was still itchy, uncomfortable, and tired, she brushed it off and glared out the window in her frustration. Great. That would really be the cherry on top.  
Why does he keep looking at her like that? As she wonders in the brief secinds their eyes meet in the mirror before shifting and clearing their throats in unison. Like she’s this thing. Like he wants to but…He can’t. Because, he knows something?  
The next night, (What day is it now? she struggles to remember), they sleep in the car, or rather, Dean does, as between them they arrange for Sam to do the graveyard shift and watch her, neither of them getting a wink of sleep.   
He wants this to be over, she knows, but Dean’s holding him back. “What have you got to gain, Sam?” she whispered into his chair.


	10. Chapter 10

Low on gas (and food, her stomach rumbled) suddenly, Dean finally spotted a gas station and pulled in.   
Miles from anywhere, Nowheres Ville. It was a combination of dusty open road and miles of fields stretched out all around her. It’s lonely, creepy. They both leave the car “stay here”, forgetting to lock it.   
Bella felt too tired to do anything. Maybe she had the flu. Her fingers ached maybe from gripping the door handle too tightly.  
After an hour in the buzzing hot car, it looks as if the boys freaked out with the kidnapping and bolted. The keys are still here, wallets and personal items, Bella spots them all in her brief awakening but the guns- at least the ones she can see- have vanished.  
She looks back at the gas station, nobody behind the till. Of course, somebody would have seen her by now and dialled 911. ‘Or’, she thought, ‘Or they killed them,’ so nobody would report them before they could scarper.   
The impala door swings open releasing cool air onto Bella’s sticky face. There is every chance there is a phone inside the shop, if not, at least she can stock up in case she can’t contact anyone. There’s probably still cash in the till, too, if they hadn’t taken it. Leaning forward to open the glove compartment Bella finds exactly what she wants. The handgun.  
She creeps out, scoping the scenery. Silently, she ditches the car and sprints to the shop, she tucks the gun in her inside pocket.   
Ding!  
The bell makes her jump, the gun nearly clatters to the floor, but she catches it in time, sighing with relief. At the front, near the till, is empty the back too. There is a CCTV camera in the corner of the room surrounded by cobwebs, facing the other way.   
‘It’s strange’, she hears herself think, no blood, so signs of attack of struggle or any mess whatsoever. At first finds sandwiches, water, potato chips, breakfast bars and stuffs it all into an abandoned grimy carrier bag she checks the till. It’s a quarter of the way full, but it is enough. Her pulse in in her ears, she tucks her loose hair behind her ear. She doesn’t feel so alone.   
As the last $10 is emptied into the bag there’s a click. She nearly misses it but it is the unmistakable sound of a gun. She turns, relieved it’s only Sam Walker. Bella couldn’t get out the words immediately but reached for his trembling hands, pointing the gun away from her. Her voice was soft, but it was rich with something friendly to fear “Sam, you have to let me go”.   
“I really, really want to, Bella, believe me I wish it didn’t have to be this way” his left hand cupped her face, his brown eyes into hers, but in the other, the gun foreshadowed otherwise.   
“But I have to”.   
Bella finds herself silently beseeching for the return of Agent Sam Walker who brought her literature and laughter back in Westwood Farmstead Sacred Hospital.  
They’re back in the car. Sam clamps down on his tongue to keep from exchanging kind words with Bella in the backseat snuffling and stifling tears. He feels god awful and wishes Dean was done so the silence wasn’t so hurting.  
Back at the hospital, that wasn’t a trust bonding, he really was kind to Bella, she’ll never see that now.  
Sam has to unlock it to let Dean in, with all the ‘shopping’ they’d done. He exhales, he can’t believe Dean is so calm and collected and gets out to help with the bags.   
Briefly, in those seconds between the click of the door and Dean crouching to sit, Bella plucks up the courage to swing the door open; running like Hell.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean tackles her before she can go any further, he’d underestimated her surge of power she must have gained back in her rest. He lifts her from the dust of the sand and pulls her over his shoulder she begins to scream and he sets her down. Inside the Impala, he bolts the door, she starts snuffling again, mentally wishing she wasn’t so pathetic, Dean growls. He’s going to have it out with her here and now.  
“Shut up, just shut up!”   
“Dean-”  
“No, Sam she’s going to know, I can’t take this anymore! The crying and kicking, the delusions, no more!”   
He waves his hand in dismissal and turns to face Sam and Bella sternly. Sam nods.  
One breath. He’ll do this is one breath.  
“Bella, we’ve lied to you, ok? We lied. My name isn’t Dean Walker, it’s Dean Winchester, and this over here” he gestures to Sam “-is my brother, Sam Winchester- not Sam Wilder, understand? We’re here because….” Anxiously he chuckles “because we think you're special. But we don’t know for sure, so we came to find you. You’re in danger, you can never go back to Westwood Farmstead”.  
..  
He sat. One arm limp and lifeless- much how he looked- resting on his thigh, the other also inactive but holding his paper cup. Dean took quick sips from every couple of seconds. He had defined features, a Greek nose, pouty lips, smooth butter hazel eyes that were blood shot now, with a hangdog expression that would have put a blood hound to shame. He looked tired and angry. Bella saw them as people now, how pretty they were suddenly.

The other one-Sam Winchester?- was restless compared to his brother. He was tall, probably 6’4. He had a celestial nose, also a pucky mouth, kind whisky matured in an oak barrel eyes also in contrast to his companion. That’s what she noticed. He was kind looking. He smiled a bit.  
“Special…?” her voice broke. "Special how?". Bella Gumm let it all sink in. They explained it all to her, the sudden power she was feeling, unrest, paleness, constant thirst- she was something else. But it was bull surely!  
" You're not making any damn sense!" another thought hit her "what about my ma! She doesn't seem very extraordinary to me!"  
“Then it’s simple, it misses a generation that’s if Wendaline is your mother at all”  
“Dean” Sam cuts tightly.  
“What? Oh come on, Sam, Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it. The explosion, living in the middle of nowhere, don’t you think it’s shady” Den lowers his voice “we’ve been here before”   
Bella is barely listening, she has no idea what they mean and all she can th  
ink of is her mom. How she lied to her. “I’ve never even heard of living, breathing Vampire- ever” how naïve did they think she was. It was just another plan, another ploy to get her to keep quite.   
Bella breathes out, a gasp from where she had been crying earlier caught in her throat.   
“Vampire” She blows. She catches Sam’s nod. Dean, through with the chick-flick cliché’s, "congrats" picks up the box and tosses it into the backseat, unlocking all the doors.  
Bella peaks inside and it’s the cassette tape box from earlier, “We’re Winchesters” Dean interrupts her thoughts “And we love cassettes, pie, and we love rock music”, he picks out a random one “so shut your cakehole and listen up” he puts the Impala in reverse and turns up the thuds of the beat to fill the car. Sam smiles to himself and unbeknownst to him, so does Bella.


	12. Chapter 12

“my god, did that just happen?” In the dark, both boys take turns to run their hands down their face.  
“I can’t believe you told her, Dean.”  
“Well, what was I supposed to do? She was being impossible, and now look! Listen!-“ they hear the unmistakable sounds of stifled humming coming from the bathroom “ this way, she’ll put Westwood out of her mind, at least for a couple of days. So we’re safe”.   
By the time she was done, both boys were in bed and one of them (Bella didn’t know which) had made up a bed for her on the couch so she would be spared sharing with one of them. It was a sweet gesture and she vaguely remembered why she didn’t scream or call for assistance when she first met them under false pretense at her bedside. Vaguely. Belle checked the time (11:30) and took her spot on the couch, drifting into a much-earned sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

I’m glad Dean is happy and so is Bella but honestly, I don’t think this is right. Bella and Dean, of course get on like a house on fire and so do we, that’s not a problem, the rest of it is a problem.  
...  
Sam hunches over his side of the table. He’s lost his appetite. But still orders bacon and eggs ignoring the blonde waitresses OTT smiling at Dean, and his unfathomable charm. Bella fancies a shake to start her day off energetic for once. Dean orders everything. Pig.  
Dean and Belle swap jokes and casual, meaningless attacks on each other. The café is small and quite crowded for 8:00. Sam shifts in his seat. He can almost predict the next conversation  
“At least you can ditch the Gumm, right Neapolitan?”  
“Wow are we back to Neapolitan?” she pokes him “I never even thought of that"”

“I guess the real question is what do we do now” Sam says unenthusiastically as breakfast arrives at their table. In unison the winchesters reach for the pepper.  
“Wow. Spooky” Bella quips. “So, I take it you’re not real FBI, so what do you do?”  
Sam cringes. This is why he didn’t want Bella to know. But unsurprisingly Dean just waggles his eyebrows.  
“It’s like this” he explains, dropping his voice “every nightmare you’ve ever been told, folklore, legend- it’s most likely true. For instance-” he plucks Sam’s salt pot from his mid- sprinkling. “-See, Sam and I usually carry Salt around with us because it’s lethal to ghosts and demons, it’s like radioactive to them” Dean shakes a pile onto the table and puts the pot down which Sam snatches up again.  
He makes a ring, “If you’re standing in a salt circle then you’re safe, for whatever reason, the ghosts can’t enter. But! For trapping demons you need a devil’s trap, so they can’t get out. You dig?”  
She nods, starting on her bacon and eggs, “That’s your job? Finding these things…your parents too?"  
“Our dad taught us” Sam says making face. She didn’t need to know those details.

After breakfast it’s time to move on. Again. Bella’s told with the job, homes and apple pie lives don’t come easy “if at all” Dean winks. She smiles but wishes Sam would cheer up and stop looking at her like that.  
Sam kicked Dean’s shin under the table, a sign they needed a chat.  
"Me and Sammy are, uh, gonna go talk out back for a minute"  
Dean gave a sheepish smile. " that cool with you?"  
"Mmm" Bella spooned more egg into her mouth and looked out of the diner window admiringly.  
When they got out of sight behind a brick corner wall, Dean turned to Sam angrily. "So, come on!" He said "what's your problem, huh? Not allowed to like her or get to know her"  
Sam put his hands up reassuringly "of course Dean and i want to too but-"  
"But what?"  
" don’t you see what you’re doing?"  
Dean threw up his hands.  
" Dean, we found her for a reason. To do one thing, remember? It was your idea. I know you want to know her better but honestly: tell me this has nothing to do with your feelings"  
"what the hell's it got to do with *feelings*" Sam was working him up like a time bomb, wearing down his patience.  
" its almost like...like your guilt tripping yourself. Our whole lives we hunt things and kill them to protect them and here we are hauling our asses left right and centre for a *kid*". He emphasized "Kid" so Dean felt a burn in his gut.  
Dean scoffed but he knew his brother’s heart was in the right place so they left it at that.” It’s nothing to do with *feelings*. But we can't just let her go. You really want more blood on your hands , Sammy?”  
...  
They leave abruptly but not too soon that Dean doesn’t forget to give that blonde waitress his number. Wink.  
"Time to break the hell out of this place," Dean joked, and nodded to the open rear door of the Impala. "But let's just take it nice and slow, huh” as Bella suddenly feels her ribs set alight.


End file.
